“And why do you have to look at me like that?” “I’m just listening.” “No, you’re standing there all stoic, but I see it.” I swallowed. “What do you see?” Mary watched me for a long moment before she sat up, weight on the palms of her hands, the covers just barely catching on the swells of her breasts and keeping her nipples hidden from view. Her long hair spilled over those swells, over the sheets, her eyes heavy and dazed. “I see that you’d devour me,” she whispered. “If I said the word.”
